


I Don't Suppose I'm Used To Dancing

by Lynchy8



Series: Fun (and sad!) little drabbles [11]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Captain!Jolras, Dancing, M/M, Maria!Grantaire, Sound of Music AU, UST, rule 63 Montparnasse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/pseuds/Lynchy8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sound of Music AU as requested by besanii</p>
<p>Captain Enjolras shares an intimate moment with his son's tutor on the veranda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Suppose I'm Used To Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [besanii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/besanii/gifts).



"Combeferre, who are you dancing with?" Feuilly asked, watching his older brother move carefully on the veranda, stepping smartly on his own, hands placed on an invisible waist and shoulder, the usually serious look on his face absent for the moment as he moved in time to the music drifting from the ballroom.

“Nobody,” he replied, but with none of the usual sharpness to his tone.

"Oh yes you are," Feuilly grinned, as Courfeyrac stepped up, making a large bow and offering his hand. For once, Combeferre smiled, a real smile that reached all the way to his eyes as he murmured that he would be delighted. The other brothers watched, entranced, as the two eldest moved easily in the night air.

"Why didn't you boys tell me you could dance?"

Everyone froze on instinct, just for a moment even though they knew it was R’s voice, that they would never be in trouble with him, that it wouldn't matter this once that they were caught dancing.

Jehan broke the moment of awkwardness, stepping forward with a small dreamy smile.

“We were afraid you’d make us all dance together,” he smiled, before twirling on the spot. “The Von Trapp Family dancers!” The other boys laughed as the relaxed atmosphere returned to the veranda. They turned their attention back to the ball room which was filled with anonymous faces, all taking their places as the orchestra started to play.

“What’s that they’re playing?” Joly asked, his big eyes turning trustily up to R who grinned down at the small boy.

Through the open doors, the children observed the grown-ups moving gracefully around the ball room, women dressed in their best gowns, the men dressed sharply in black suits and bow ties. The candlelight proved remarkably bright as it reflected off the mirrors in the room.

“It’s the Laendler, an Austrian folk dance,” R replied, old memories filtering through his mind. He was brought back by a firm hand tugging at his shirt.

“Show me” Jehan looked remarkably sincere and R couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Oh Jehan, I haven’t danced that since I was your age,” he stepped back, rubbing an awkward hand over the back of his neck.

“You remember, please?” Well, R didn’t have a hope, not with Jehan turning his big green eyes on him like that. He felt his resolve disappear and Jehan knew it.

“Well, all right,” he agreed, something inside tugging his heart when Jehan lit up with delight. “Come on over here.”

They moved away from the doors to the centre of the patio in order to have plenty of space. He took a deep breath and began to instruct the boy.

“First, we bow to one another,” he dropped a bow, grinning at Jehan encouragingly.

“Like this?” Jehan’s wiry frame bent in imitation of R’s more graceful move but R nodded, reaching out to take the boy’s hands.

“Fine,” he affirmed, “now we go for a little walk.”

It was slightly awkward as they stepped for three, then a little hop and now a turn but R was a patient teacher and the boys watched in fascination as their brother and tutor stumbled about. R  
moved remarkably lithely for someone dancing with a boy half his age. 

Nobody noticed Enjolras step out into the night air, pressing his gloves onto his fingers. He watched for a moment from the shadows, smiling as his son and his employee attempted a turn, the two getting somewhat tangled with the height difference, and Enjolras’s face stretched into a smile as R offered encouraging words to a slightly disheartened Jehan.

He moved into the light, to tap lightly on Jehan’s shoulder.

“Do allow me, would you?” He was so focused on his son that he completely missed the look of mild horror on R’s face, a look which was gone, his face back to its reserved form, by the time Enjolras glanced back at him.

Enjolras straightened his spine, moving his left hand to rest at the small of his back while offering his right hand out to the stunned youth before him. R felt his legs moving long before his brain caught up. He accepted the outstretched hand, and before he knew what was happening his treacherous face had broken into a small warm smile.

R moved easily now that it was Enjolras and not Jehan who was his partner, his muscles remembering easily what his heart and mind had long forgotten. He allowed Enjolras to take the lead, as if the man could do anything else. His feet moved well and Enjolras proved to be a good partner.

Not just good, his mind retaliated, the best. They moved naturally, telepathically, as though they had always danced together, Enjolras’s dress shoes matching R’s somewhat tatty boots on the paving slabs.

R was flying.

They flowed so easily together and they were so close. His skin burned where Enjolras touched it, contrasting sharply with the stinging night air. Just for a moment, Enjolras’s hands found R’s waist and he was sure he might die right then, but the next moment, following the moves of the dance, the hands came back up, stretching above their heads and he matched them, twisting efficiently. They turned, each moving on their own for a moment.

R reached out a hand to grasp the gloved one offered over Enjolras’s left shoulder and was surprised to see it so steady when the rest of his body was screaming. He knew what was coming next and his brain almost short circuited as they came together. They met chest to chest, left arms raised, hands clasped, while their right hands rested at the small of R’s back and oh it was heaven.

Everything else had disappeared, the children forgotten and he could barely hear the music, only the vague thud of his pulse in his ears. He wasn’t sure he was still breathing anymore.

Enjolras was so close he could feel his breath, could feel his warmth radiating through his dress shirt. They were barely inches apart; Enjolras only needed to bend down that golden, glorious head and their lips would have met and really that was a terrible thought to be having when Enjolras was close enough to read his mind.

He must have done for at that moment their eyes met and everything seemed to stop. R suddenly felt very young, very lost, in the arms of this great man. His breath caught in his throat and he completely forgot that he was supposed to be dancing.

He stepped back, suddenly frightened of the tight feeling in his chest. Enjolras was looking at him, really looking at him, and all R wanted to do was run and hide.

“I don’t remember anymore,” he stuttered, filling the void with something, anything.

“Your face is all red.” 

Trust Feuilly, observant Feuilly, who noticed everything and let nothing pass at all. Trust Feuilly to comment now, of all times, in the presence of his father when usually he wouldn’t dare speak a word.

His hands instantly rose to his face, as if to hide the shame painted there.

“Is it?” his voice was not his own and his eyes never left Enjolras. In all this panic he failed to notice that Enjolras hadn’t stopped staring at him either.

“I don’t suppose I’m used to dancing,”

And dear god strike him dead right now, because at his words, Enjolras smiled. Not one of those benevolent smiles he had started to indulge his sons with, but a small secret smile just for him. R began to breathe again.

The moment was shattered by a smooth, cold voice from the darkness.

“Why that was beautifully done, what a lovely couple you make.” 

Baroness Parnasse stepped out of the ballroom, obviously in search of her dancing partner. She strode purposefully over to the two men who stood awkwardly as though caught in the act, even if it had only been the act of dancing. The children stood back, old instincts kicking in, sensing the change in atmosphere. 

Enjolras returned to himself, his shoulders setting into that familiar arrangement and you could almost hear the barriers slamming into place as he turned back to R, all efficiency.

“I think it’s time the children said good night.”

The spell was broken but just for a moment, R had been able to imagine that he belonged in Enjolras’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 7am on a saturday morning but I'm sorely tempted to carry on... we'll see.


End file.
